A False Duality
by Skierunner
Summary: There's a reason Ben doesn't appear on Tatooine. He didn't exactly die on Exegol. Rey didn't exactly live. Canon complaint. SPOILERS for TROS.


It's agony. His leg is broken, he knows. It dangles uselessly as his arms strain to drag his battered body out of the pit.

The battle is over, he knows. Palpatine's death sent a tidal wave of anger and violence through the Force. Aftershocks of outrage still pulse, making it very difficult for him to sense Rey. If he wasn't so weak, so exhausted from his climb, maybe he could reach out to her, to ask for help, but he's at the rim now, heaving his chest on to solid ground, finally seeing with his own eyes the- the…

He's still perched on the precipice, the rim's edge digging harshly into his chest. It would make it harder to breathe, if he could remember how.

It reminds him of craters. Starburst lines drawing in from the entire temple, the symmetry of the circle so perfect priests would call it divine. In the center, a dais of smooth rock, debris pushed far from the point of impact where the comet had collided with the earth. And the comet itself, the celestial body, having fallen too fast to burn in atmosphere, collapsed in the middle of it all.

Rey.

He claws at the ground, hauling himself out of the pit and struggling to stand. There is hardly a dozen meters between them but it feels like lightyears. Pain still screams through his entire right side, but he doesn't spare it any attention. Can't, not when his every thought, every action, every heartbeat was focused on her.

Why can't he sense her?

He collapses, leg no longer capable of supporting him, and he crawls the rest of the way towards her. The moment he can reach her, he pulls her towards him, gathering her up from the dust and into his arms. His hand goes to her neck, looking for what he knows he won't find.

He can't feel… anything.

No heartbeat. No presence in his mind. No breath.

Shaking. He's shaking.

Her eyes are glassy, but sparkling, reflecting the light of the stars above. Depthless in death.

What… how… he couldn't… There was no future without her. No one would take him, former Supreme Leader. All that remains for him is deserved execution- so why is it her laying motionless in the dirt? The one with friends and hope and heart-aching potential? If one of them had to die, why wasn't it him?

It should have been him. So many times, it should have been him. His father, dead. His mother, dead. Uncle, dead. All one with the Force. And now Rey, too, is… is…

Still here.

Rey is still here.

He squeezes her in his grip, hardly believing, because her body is still _here_. She hasn't faded. There's still a chance.

He knows. He knows what he has to do. And this time, he knows he has the strength to do it.

He sets her down gently, closing his eyes, holding a hand over her chest, focusing on the life within him, searching for the tendril of their connection, and _pushes_.

"Be with me."

/

Tatooine wasn't as similar to Jakku as one might expect. Or at least, anyone who hadn't lived their whole life on desert planets wouldn't know the difference, but it was there. Hard packed sand instead of rolling dunes. Moisture farms instead of scavenging outposts. Friendly nods instead of wary stares.

Rey would have known the difference. Ben would not.

Rey had loved to slide down dunes in Jakku, so they likewise slid down into the farm's remains on Tatooine. Ben had always wanted to know where his uncle lived as a child, so they explored what they could of the sand-filled home. They both wanted to honor Luke and Leia's memories, so they did. Side by side, their sabers sank into the ground, never to be disturbed. It was time for them- their legacy- to rest.

Judging by their warm, translucent smiles, the twins agreed.

They heard the old woman approach, but were still surprised when she spoke to them. Rey had never grown accustomed to the openness off Jakku and Ben had long accepted that most were too scared to speak with him.

"Who are you?" The woman asked from her camel-like mount.

They'd been working on that question. Were they Rey? Were they Ben? Maybe they weren't either, anymore. Maybe there had never been that much distinction between them in the first place. Not since they first connected, at any rate.

...They were still working on that question.

But they had only one body, and that body had a name.

"I'm Rey."

The old woman leaned forward, squinting. "Rey who?"

They hadn't thought of that question. Maybe they should have. They had a range of answers to choose from and they'd all be equally true. Solo. Organa. Palpatine. They hadn't thought of the question, but they knew the answer.

"Skywalker," they smiled. "I'm Rey Skywalker."


End file.
